


Her Blood

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He failed. And because of that, Dawn lost two pints of blood and they all lost her sister</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Blood

_Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm, makes you hard, makes you other than dead. Of course it's her blood._  
  
The sarcastic taunt he'd so thoughtlessly thrown at Harris had haunted him for months now. He heard those words ringing in his sleep, whispering through his nightmares, weighing his every step down during his waking hours. When Dawn had come down from the tower, shivering and crying, he'd seen the evidence all over her, and when she refused to let anybody but him near her, he'd gathered her close and buried his face in her hair. And that was when he'd smelled it.  
  
Blood. Her blood, clinging to her clothing and skin, wafting all about her like a fine perfume.   
  
If he'd thought about it, Spike would've known it had been shed as part of the ritual; he'd seen the knife in Doc's hand when he'd failed to save her, after all, and only her blood would've opened the portal that had torn his whole world asunder, but he'd been too racked with grief and guilt to think straight, so it had been a slap in the face. They'd failed, they'd all failed, but none more than he, and because of that, Dawn had bled.  
  
And her blood had cost them everything.  
  
Her blood, shed because of his failure, left the world without a Slayer, but that was only temporary. It was the other losses that Spike knew he would never be able to forgive himself for - the student, the friend, the sister, the center of their worlds. There was a great gaping hole in the middle of all of them, a place with jagged edges that would never fit quite right again, and it was all. His. Fault.  
  
That was when he made up his mind. He was going to make sure that Dawn was safe, that she never shed another drop of blood again. It was part of his promise, and even though his world had ended with the Slayer's fall, the earth was still turning, and he had to keep her safe until it stopped. He'd failed the first time, and he wouldn't fail again.  
  
He took to checking on her throughout the night, going by before patrol and again when he was finished, standing watch outside her window to make sure nothing disturbed her sleep. But there were demons he couldn't fight, and after listening to her whimper and cry out for her sister, he often had to slink back to his crypt, hands clenched in futile rage at his inability to help her.  
  
There were other nights, too. Nights that the little Scooby gang would have some sort of meeting that he wasn't invited to, nights that they asked him to sit with her. Those nights were at once the best and worst of that long, awful summer. He reveled in the chance to spend time with her, and gladly taught her to cheat at poker while they watched Dr Who and Monty Python, but those nights allowed him to see her pain up close, and the evidence of tears and sleepless nights was like a dagger in his heart.  
  
He supposed it was a form of penance, those nights he spent with her. They were cherished for the time they had without Scoobies or Watchers, but they'd come at far too dear a price. Worst of all was the knowledge that these beautiful times were a twisted gift from the universe, a balm to his wounded heart that he should never have needed if he'd only been the fighter he was supposed to be. He never tried to talk to her about them, not when she seemed to need the nights as badly as he did, if only because they were the only times she ever seemed to sleep without nightmares. Holding her close after she'd fallen asleep, Spike would look down at her face, at the signs of a girl bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders, and make another silent promise:  _Never again_.


End file.
